


[O]bserve

by makkurataichou



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Other, Prequel-ish, minor depictions of violence, semi-analysis of what 9S might have been like pre-game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-23 23:23:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19161118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makkurataichou/pseuds/makkurataichou
Summary: When it comes to furthering a cause he really believes in, 9S prefers to take action if it’s within his means, and he’d much rather ask for forgiveness than for permission.





	[O]bserve

**Author's Note:**

> After five years, I finally decided to try my hand at TSoS once again! This year's theme is technology, which has me extra excited - is everyone ready for some tech jargon bs from me because I sure am ready to spew it!!
> 
> The first theme was **Open()** and I'll admit it got a little out of hand...you may find all of the layers, or you may not...OR you may find that this whole story was just an elaborate excuse for me to write 9S fic without actually conforming to the theme! The choice is yours!
> 
> (all else aside, I hope you enjoy!)

9S awakens as though he has just had a very long, very pleasant dream.

Pale blue eyes slide open beneath a velvet blindfold, seeing darkness at first, but within a few moments, his visor screen blinks on and comes into focus, and he finds himself staring up at a stark white ceiling. As he begins to sit up, he feels the rest of his systems slowly coming back online, and he raises a hand and curls his fingers, tentatively testing the motion.

“All systems are now online,” a calm voice chimes from the speakers above him, echoing throughout the white too . “Welcome back to the Bunker, Unit 9S. Please report to Central Command for your mission briefing.”

The android nods in acknowledgement, mostly to himself, and clambers out of bed. He moves over to the nearby computer screen and taps the surface with a gloved finger. The screen comes to life, displaying the contents of a folder labeled ‘Journal’. 9S raises an eyebrow.

The folder is empty.

He bites his lower lip, then pulls up a blank document and begins to type.

_Hello. Uh, again, I guess. This is Unit 9S, and it seems as though I’ve been rebooted. I don’t have any memories from before, aside from who I am and where I come from, so my best guess is that my old body was damaged beyond repair in a battle against the machine threat._

He pauses to think for a moment, considering the implication of his next words, before shaking his head and continuing.

_It doesn’t seem as though this computer contains any old journal entries, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve written things down. Did they get erased along with my memories when I was rebooted? Doesn’t seem very practical for a scanner unit—after all we’re designed to gather information, so what use are we if we can’t hold on to it somehow? ...ah well, I shouldn’t question it. I might as well start fresh._

From outside the door to his room, 9S hears the sound of boots clacking against the cold steel of the Bunker floor, and he types out two more sentences before turning off his screen and heading out.

_Today will be my first mission in this new body. I hope it goes well._

* * *

He finds himself in a ruined, abandoned city, surrounded by overgrown foliage, calm wildlife, and surprisingly, even calmer machines. 9S finds that he somehow enjoys watching the lower machine lifeforms hop around aimlessly, occasionally bumping into each other or tripping over rocks. Even the ones piloting hovercraft don’t seem to do much other than following fixed patterns in the air. He cracks a wry smile as he places his chin on his folded hands and leans forward, observing from the roof of a distant building as instructed.

_I’m surprised this war has lasted as long as it has. Based on my observations, it doesn’t seem as though these things have any idea what they’re doing. It’s ridiculous._

_With so much time to myself, and such weak machines to observe, I have plenty of time to fill up this journal with new entries. Next time, I’ll be sure to upload my journal data to the Bunker servers before I lose consciousness, so YoRHa can take advantage of all the information I’ve gathered._

His gaze drifts towards a small biped that has wandered away from the group and into some tall grass. It seems oddly distracted, its head constantly following the motion of a small dragonfly. Slowly, it extends an arm towards the insect, and 9S tenses up. Without another moment’s hesitation, he flicks his wrist and sends an electromagnetic wave in the biped’s direction, causing it to freeze in place. A screen pops up on his visor display, showing a small unmoving grey sphere, and he grins.

“Too easy.”

9S maneuvers his icon into position on the screen and shoots at the sphere, disabling the biped’s systems and taking control of the machine. A flood of data pours into him in an instant, and he parses through it with the efficiency of a seasoned scanner unit, noting only the most important parts in his journal.

_Built for speed...can equip weapons…not good for much aside from parts. Wouldn’t wanna be swarmed by these, though._

He lazily maneuvers the machine away from the grass patch and back towards its comrades, deciding to take the opportunity to study the group up close. Adding more information to his bestiary is always a worthwhile cause, and he figures he can never have too much extra information on hand.

However, the moment his biped is within range of the other machines, they turn towards it with a look of hostility.

“An...droid…” they drone in unison, and 9S feels a sudden, cold fear overtake him, despite the fact that he is physically several miles away from the scene.

_The machines can sense when their kind have been hacked. They know I’m the enemy._

9S barely has time to destroy the link between himself and the biped before the other machines dive in and rip into it, tearing it limb from limb. He watches, dumbfounded, as they return to their previous activities, leaving behind the carcass of their ex-comrade, mauled beyond recognition.

His former boredom now eradicated, the android rapidly tries to collect his thoughts.

_It seems as though the machines have some way of telling android frequencies apart from their own. But how? Have they been upgraded by the alien race controlling them? This means YoRHa needs to upgrade its scanner models and allows us to disguise our hacks so machines can’t detect them._

_But first...someone needs to figure out how they’re doing it. I can’t pitch this to YoRHa without proof—I need to do more research, find out how they acquired this technology._

Foregoing all other emotions at the mere thought of research, 9S finds himself bubbling with excitement. His thirst for knowledge has always outweighed his distaste towards machines, and with the basic offensive upgrades that YoRHa has added to scanner models in the past year, he knows that his chances of survival in the field are considerably higher than they used to be.

_I’m not strong enough to destroy machines myself, but if I follow our offensive platoons, maybe I can harvest some parts and reverse engineer the tech myself. Scanner units traditionally work alone, so I’ll have to find a way to track the missions being assigned to the other units._

_I’ll prove that I can do this._

* * *

Over the next few weeks, 9S finds himself lingering behind in Central Command after every mission briefing, silently listening in on the objectives given to the offensive units who are briefed after him. He finishes his recon missions quickly and effortlessly; then, instead of reporting straight back to the Bunker, he occasionally heads towards the additional sets of coordinates stored in his memory, searching for signs of machine-android conflict.

He harvests whatever parts he can find, then gathers them and takes them to the weapons vendor at the resistance camp. The older android doesn’t ask questions when 9S asks him to store the spare parts for later. The rest of the resistance never asks why he visits more frequently than usual or why he can often be found tinkering with machine parts at the far end of the camp. And most importantly, the YoRHa commander doesn’t seem to notice his deviation from the norm.

But there are some problems he cannot solve by tracing the deployment of YoRHa forces. 9S knows that the world is far larger and far wider than just the Bunker and the city ruins. He’s seen many a machine go in and out of the central area, and occasionally noticed a few more advanced models wander into the city. He wants to know more about them all; where they come from, what their goals are, and whether they truly _are_ a threat to humanity.

 _‘Glory to mankind’,_ he writes one evening by the fire in the resistance camp, surrounded by several chatty androids. _That’s the motto of the YoRHa force.They keep us fighting so we can bring humans back to Earth. But do we really still need to fight? The machines are hardly hostile unless we initiate combat, and even so they’re mostly weak and powerless._

He frowns, suddenly self-conscious. He realizes that the contents of his journal, if taken out of context, could make him sound like a traitor. Journal data is usually encrypted when it is transmitted to the Bunker servers, but Central Command could still intercept and access it without his knowledge. Hastily, he continues typing, adding more information with the intent of justifying his cause to any outside readers.

_There could be more powerful models out there that I haven’t seen yet. The aliens could also just be waiting for us to drop our defenses so they have an opportunity to strike. I’m not going to make blind assumptions — I need more information._

9S sighs, his shoulders sagging with some relief as he dismisses his journal. His gaze skims his surroundings, watching the other androids laugh and eat and drink. Everything seems normal, yet somehow, even now, he doesn’t feel safe. Deciding not to take any chances, he navigates to his system settings and changes the server sync settings for his journal entries from automatic to manual.

 _‘I can’t let Central Command get the wrong idea,’_ he thinks to himself as he walks back to the Bunker access point later that night. _‘I’m just trying to help our cause. If the machines really aren’t a threat anymore, mankind will have a place to live again. That’s what we want in the end, isn’t it? I’m doing the right thing.’_

He selects the option for quick transport, then steps into the access point.

_‘I just need more evidence. I’m almost there.’_

* * *

Three days later, 9S throws all caution to the wind and wanders into the desert, his recon mission forgotten.

_A biped with a weapon wandered into the city ruins. I’m going to follow it and see if I can learn anything about it...where it came from, and what made it carry a weapon like that._

He expects to find a group of machines wandering around aimlessly as always. What he _doesn’t_ expect to find is several machine colonies _living_ within the desert amongst the ruins of human civilization, grouping together and conducting raids like bandits, or collecting trinkets and protecting each other. It seems inexplicable to 9S that machines, supposedly connected by a hive mind and sent commands to destroy from a central source, would take to forming organized societies of any kind.

_‘Is it possible that they could be imitating humans and...evolving? Did they refine their ability to identify android frequencies so they could protect their societies from being infiltrated?’_

That evening in the resistance camp, he writes a brand new journal entry and encrypts it using an algorithm of his own design. He can’t risk anyone finding out his plan until his own personal mission is complete. When it comes to furthering a cause he really believes in, 9S prefers to take action if it’s within his means, and he’d much rather ask for forgiveness than for permission.

_Machine lifeforms...they’re just trying to live normal lives free from their creators. If we take this fight right to the source and destroy their alien leaders, maybe the machines can live in peace with mankind when we bring the remaining humans back to live on Earth._

_It sounds risky, but I’m sure Central Command is tired of all this fighting...tired of losing so many comrades in battle. With all the parts I’ve gathered, I can track down the alien mothership and scan it for signs of life. I’ll know how big the threat is, and I can take that information back to the Bunker. Then we can launch a full assault and win this war once and for all._

_It’s time for me to put my equipment to good use, for humans and machines alike._

* * *

The next day, he perches himself atop one of the tallest buildings in the ruins and begins piecing his assorted machine parts together. 9S suspects that he can build a transmitter with the parts that he has, then adjust the frequency to zero in on high concentrations of alien technology. There are a lot of uncertainties involved, and he risks attracting the attention of both machines and his fellow androids, but it would take too long for anyone to reach him at his vantage point, and by then, his work would be done.

He puts the finishing touches on his transmitter and smiles to himself. All he needs to do now is attach himself to the system, and he can begin sending transmissions across the entirety of the city ruins.

Suddenly, he hears a sound behind him. Turning around, he sees another android standing there, silhouetted against the afternoon sun. He can’t see their face, but based on their outfit and stance…

“You’re...a B unit?” he asks tentatively.

The android takes a few steps closer, and 9S feels a strange ache of familiarity within him—a sensation that androids shouldn’t be able to experience. He clutches at his chest, confused.

_‘Maybe I plugged myself in early? I’m not getting any readings though...what is this feeling?’_

He can see the android’s features more clearly now. She has short hair, partially obscuring her face, and a standard YoRHa issue visor. Her mouth is set in a thin line, but her lower lip trembles slightly.

“Central Command must’ve sent you to check up on me,” he offers, throwing in a soft laugh for good measure. “I’ll get back to my mission, I promise. I just need to get this transmitter working first, but I swear it’s in YoRHa’s best interest. I have journal entries to prove it and everything.”

She turns her head slightly, glancing at the transmitter for a moment, then back at him. Aside from that singular motion, she remains in place, unmoving, still silent.

_‘It’s possible she just wandered up here by accident. Or maybe her mission objective is nearby. Probably best to leave her alone.’_

Finally giving up on the notion of any kind of conversation, 9S sighs softly and turns back to his task. “You’re welcome to watch, if you’d like. Scanners like me don’t get visitors often.”

Still silence. 9S fiddles with a set of wires, trying to get them untangled.

“Oh, I never introduced myself,” he offers. “I’m 9S. What’s your—”

He lurches forward suddenly, his vision filled with static. Something is wrong. He tries to curl the fingers of his left hand, but finds himself unable to feel sensation in his entire arm. Slowly, he glances down and sees the blade of a sword sticking out of his stomach, red fluid gushing onto his shorts and pooling on the cement beneath him. And then the pain comes, searing through his abdomen and seeping through his entire body.

“W-why,” he chokes out, collapsing on his side, merely an arm’s length away from his creation. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the other android walk up to his transmitter. With three slashes of her sword, it comes crashing to the ground in a series of small explosions, leaving nothing but charred metal behind.

9S feels his systems shutting down one by one. He watches the android as she walks up to him and kneels down, placing a gloved hand on his face. Through his blurred vision, he can almost swear that he sees a tear running down her cheek.

“Forgive me, Nines,” she whispers, and then, everything goes dark.

* * *

_“YoRHa Unit 2B. You are ordered to destroy YoRHa Unit 9S.”_

_“I...don’t understand.”_

_“There are clear signs in his journal entries that indicate that he has learned too much. His memory needs to be purged, and his equipment needs to be dismantled immediately.”_

_“But...how? I wasn’t with him...he was only assigned missions within the city ruins…”_

_“He has been ignoring his mission objectives for a week now, chasing after information and harvesting machine parts instead. His curiosity is as expected from a scanner unit of his caliber.”_

_“I...I see.”_

_“If you want to keep him alive, you need to curb his curiosity. Only let him learn what he needs to know. No more.”_

_“...understood.”_

_“And we could stand to adjust his personality as well. More cynicism, less hope for the machine race.”_

_“...”_

_“Well, 2B, you have your orders. Report back to the Bunker when your mission is complete. Glory to mankind.”_

_“...glory to mankind.”_

* * *

.....

 

....

 

...

 

..

 

.

 

9S awakens as though he has just had a very long, very pleasant dream.


End file.
